


The Magic of Magic

by pjo-whore (May1974)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Leo is not dead but everyone thinks he is so he's not going to show up, Powerful Percy Jackson, nothing is planned so i will update tags as i go, percabeth won't last i'm sorry, there will be crossover pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29933811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/May1974/pseuds/pjo-whore
Summary: Hecate receives a request from an old friend, the Triple Goddess of the Old Religion, who presides over the wizarding world. Magic is in danger, and the Triple Goddess believes Percy Jackson can help save it.Or, also known as: the cliche plot where the demigods head to Hogwarts to cause trouble!
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	The Magic of Magic

**Author's Note:**

> I like to write dark and angsty, but sometimes it accidentally turns into fluff. So, I will put warnings at the beginning of every chapter if something explicit is going to happen, as well as update tags. The rating on this story may change, depending on how things turn out. No warnings for this chapter; just Percy being bitter toward the gods.

Look, Percy never wanted to be a half-blood.

Being a half-blood – the child of a mortal human and god – was dangerous. It was scary. Most of the time, on top of having neglectful parents and a dysfunctional and incestuous family that wanted you dead for petty reasons, it got you killed in other painful, nasty ways.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Percy didn’t feel envious of the kids who didn’t have to deal with the mythological world.

Percy Jackson was seventeen years old. Until a month ago, he was fighting a war against a Greek primoradial, the Earth Mother incarnate, Gaea – also known as his great grandmother. Before that, he fought in a war against his grandfather, Kronos, Greek Titan of Time, who wanted to other throw the Olympian gods and take over the world and the Empire State Building. Somewhere in between he also found time to spend a month in literal Greek hell, Tartarus, who also happened to be his great grandfather, and who also tried to murder him on sight.

Was Percy a troubled kid?

Yeah. You could say that.

And right now, he was still trying to clean up the mess from the Second Giant War.

Now that there wasn’t a war constantly looming overhead, the gods’ recent exploits were coming to light, and new demigods were popping up everywhere, everyday. The number of demigods skyrocketed now that they were actively searching and not waiting for them to stumble into Camp on their own.

But that also meant there were new kids to train, more demigods for the gods to claim, and less time to recoup from the recent war.

Less than a month had passed since Gaea’s defeat.

Other than one particular incident on Percy’s birthday – which was par for the course by now – things had been running as smoothly as they could.

The days were filled with helping each other get back on their feet, rebuilding the camps, and trying to keep the fragile peace in order.

There was still a lot to sort out, and the gods weren’t as hands-on as most would like. There was conflict building up. News spread about how the gods helped the seven demigods of the prophecy fight the giants, because a giant couldn’t be killed by a mortal alone, and this made many jealous and angry. The gods could pop in for a single battle when it was their own ass on the line, but not when a group of their own literal kids needed to rebuild their home that was _dedicated to the gods_?

Besides Chiron and Dionysus, the only god to physically stay at Camp Half-Blood following the battle against Gaea due to his punishment from Zeus, there were no other adults. The oldest demigods were barely twenty. Despite age, most, if not all, the demigods looked to the prophecy demigods for guidance and leadership.

Annabeth, Jason, Percy, Piper, Frank, Hazel, and Nico.

The brunt of the responsibility fell on the daughter of Athena, and the son of Poseidon. They led their Camp through the Second Titan War, and now they were survivors of another war.

Things weren’t easy for a long time.

The Camp was completely ravaged.

During Gaea’s seize of the Greek demigod Camp, the cabins were burned by the monsters and toppled by Gaea’s massive earthquakes. Not even the Big House – the staple of Camp Half-Blood, the oldest building on the lot – survived the attack.

Camp Jupiter didn’t fare any better, but their buildings had been more structurally sound, thicker and built of material that didn’t burn and crumble. Enough buildings were still standing well enough to inhabit.

Everything had to be rebuilt for Camp Half-Blood.

Nobody could be sent home – to their mortal homes, with mortal parents, and a mortal life, mortal being the slang for “normal” among the mythological world – despite the new lack of residency at Camp Half-Blood. Kids needed to heal. There were nightmares and PTSD. Trauma and concussions. People to be counted, bodies missing, some so mauled they were impossible to identify. Several bodies were unearthed from the ground, sucked in by Gaea’s attack and suffocated beneath the dirt.

Shrouds were made for those who could be identified, the unknown buried in unmarked graves to be remembered. Those who were missing were given honorary shrouds, unknowing if they were in one of the unmarked graves. The Romans were unable to do their traditional funeral rituals, transporting the bodies all the way to Camp Jupiter, and were burned in shrouds alongside the Greeks.

Mortal parents simply couldn’t help.

They couldn’t fathom their children being in a war.

There were fears that demigods would be taken away from Camp Half-Blood by their mortal parents, horrified at what their kids were put through. Chiron especially worried about demigods who would be kept from Camp by parents, forcing them to live alone without any mythological world support, to defend against monsters on their own, without any magic or special weapons.

So, among the remaining able-bodied demigods, Greeks alongside Romans worked together to erect the new Big House. Tents from the Romans’ siege on Camp Half-Blood were gifted to the Greeks to provide residency until the new cabins were built, while the Romans started to march back home.

During all the chaos, Percy didn’t have any time to sit down and process all that happened.

The whole Camp looked up to him as a leader, but Percy didn’t feel very strong or wise.

He only felt bitter.

There were some who walked by and whispered “lucky” and “prophecy.”

Some who stopped talking as soon as he walked into the room.

Those who acted like he wasn’t even human, just some untouchable hero; but they ostracized him.

Percy was aware that he was one of the so-called “lucky” campers; lucky being compared, because at least he walked away with all his limbs intact.

It didn’t feel like he was lucky.

He wasn’t unscathed. He bore many scars, visible and not. His time in Tartarus was an impossible nightmare on bad nights, and a shadow on good days.

Percy was learning that he had triggers.

He was learning Annabeth did, too.

Neither liked using elevators.

Annabeth’s expression went tight when Percy used his powers around her. She turned away, sometimes completely leaving the area.

She got antsy in the dark, a childhood fear resurfaced.

There were other little things; at night when she had nightmares she would toss and turn in bed, sweating through her clothes and sheets, despite the breeze being cold. Sometimes Annabeth would completely avoid Percy, acting snappish, always coming back and apologizing in the end, and they would hold each other like they were hanging over the chasm again.

Annabeth refused to talk about what she saw in her nightmares, and Percy never pushed. He was one of the only people who could understand what she was going through.

Sometimes all they could do was sit and try to drown out the memories of The Pit.

Percy’s triggers were different.

He developed a deep-seated hatred for empousai. The moment he saw one, his body started to shake with adrenaline and nerves, fire flashing before his eyes.

Percy could no longer look at the stars without feeling a deep loss, tears pricking at his eyes.

He prayed to his father, Poseidon, more often, as if trying to re-establish his connection to the sea, to re-establish his connection to the Overworld, as if that could cleanse him of what happened in The Pit. As if he could wash away the touch of The Pit.

Percy’s nightmares were always blurry and violent. He wouldn’t snap awake like others. He didn’t startle or jerk upright. He didn’t make a single noise. He would wake silently, and lay there in bed, eyes open and unseeing, that shattered glass feeling he always dreaded at the bottom of his stomach. After he could never go back to sleep, and he would get up and sit on the tile in his cabin for hours and look in the mirror and wait for the image to change. He would wait for it to reflect what he feared, though it never did.

* * *

“Okay, so, how big is the situation? Is it like, ‘Aphrodite lost her hairbrush again’ big? Or is it ‘Gaea has risen again’ big?”

Annabeth frowned. “I don’t know. All Chiron said was that a god needed our help – and I don’t know about you, but I don’t like the sound of that.” She chewed her bottom lip in thought as they headed toward the Big House. They had been asked to attend a private meeting with Chiron, outside of the camp counselor meeting. “He sounded serious, too. Whichever god it is must be an asshole to seek help so soon after the war.”

She wasn’t wrong, Percy thought.

Jason was appointed Pontifex Maximus in Camp Jupiter, and as such he was responsible of advising the praetors, ruling over the Camp Jupiter counsel, and overseeing the work and prayers to the minor gods. His promise to Kymopoleia to bring worship and awareness for all minor gods became his fulltime job, and it was ruled that most gods must go through Jason to request help from either demigod camp.

A god asking for help directly after a full-scale war? Using Chiron as their connection? It was a hit below the belt, and it made Percy frustrated.

A few demigods raised their heads in greeting as Percy and Annabeth passed by the arts and crafts center. Conner and Travis Stoll, who were trying to build bombs with bits and pieces from the forge, took one look at Percy, then at Annabeth, and wiggled their brows suggestively. Percy unsubtly stuck them the bird, and they started to laugh their assess off.

The Big House was smaller now, after being rebuilt.

What could be scavenged from the attic was saved, but most of it was lost. Magical artifacts and ancient texts were burned and crushed. Now the Big House served mostly as the infirmary, aside from the drop-by medicinal tent near the Apollo cabin, where more medical supplies were. The Apollo and Hephaestus cabins had been the first to be rebuilt because they gave needed services.

Aside from the infirmary, the Big House had a commons area for meetings, and housed a kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom.

Checking in the commons area, Chiron was in his wheelchair. Nico was sitting at the beloved ping pong table, which had somehow survived the siege on Camp, and Thalia was sitting backwards on a chair by the new counselor table, which no one ever used.

Percy sat next to Nico and twirled the ping pong paddle between his hands, Annabeth taking her usual seat during counsel meetings.

Chiron looked tense.

“Now, I know that only a month has passed since the end of the Second Giant War, but –”

The air practically sparked with the collective tension that built.

“– a new quest has been issued.”

Annabeth leaned forward in her seat, interested. “Chiron, you can’t have an official quest without a prophecy. And the last time I checked; the Oracle of Delphi wasn’t working right now.”

“Well, it’s a good thing this isn’t a quest from the Greek pantheon, then.”

Percy cocked a brow and shared a look with Annabeth.

“The Roman pantheon doesn’t have an oracle, and their last augur exploded himself, so –”

“It’s a friend of Lady Hecate, the Triple Goddess.”

Dead silence.

“The Triple Goddess?” Percy parroted. “I don’t follow.”

“The Triple Goddess is of the Old Religion, once practiced in Europe hundreds of years ago by the druids and magic users in general. It belonged to Albion, a land of five kingdoms, before it split into the United Kingdom and Ireland.”

“What does that have to do with us?” Nico said.

“All those years ago, in the middle ages, after the golden age of the Greek pantheon, the Old Religion became very popular in Albion. Magic was something that anyone could practice even if they weren’t born with the innate talent, with the proper training. Through the ages, though, the religion declined, and the New Religion rose and became the staple. While the Old Religion relied on the magic of the land, sea, and sky; the New Religion relied on your inner magical core, and so not everyone could do this new magic.”

Chiron shifted in his wheelchair and pulled out a small stack of photos, but when he tossed them onto the ping pong table, the demigods saw that they held _moving pictures_.

In one photo, it showed a person standing over a boiling cauldron, on the wooden table beside them, old parchment with a quill that moved by itself, writing on the paper. The picture moved slightly, the character stirring the cauldron. Then the animated picture reset and repeated.

In another photo, two persons stood facing each other, holding purposefully shaped wooden sticks, pointing them at each other. Bright lights exploded from the tips of the sticks, and their robes and hair swayed with strong winds.

In the last photo, a person was wearing a uniform of sorts, with a helmet and pads on their knees and elbows. They held an old broomstick between their knees, and metal hinges held on the back close to the bristles, like a hitch for the feet. In the picture, the person grabbed onto the end of the broomstick and shot into the air, like magic. It gave image to the stereotype of witches flying on brooms in the night.

“The Old Religion died out because the land lost its magic. Only select spots held magical creatures and natural magic. Magic was only preserved through the New Religion, and those who practiced the New Religion became witches and wizards. The lot of them went into hiding and created their own society – the wizarding world.”

“In today’s day and age, magic is passed down through genetics. And sometimes, those with magic cores can be born to those with no magic at all. The population of magic users stays stable, and there is balance in the world of magic …” Chiron winced. “Mostly.”

“But these people have lost contact with the Triple Goddess. They no longer worship or prayer to her. They rely solely on their own magic, not what comes naturally from the land, like in the Old Religion. And recently, war has passed for them. The Second Wizarding War ended four months ago. And this has severely depleted their resources and magic. There is a school for the magic users, used as the stronghold during the war, and now the wizarding word’s hero is returning to finish his studies.”

“His moniker is ‘The Boy Who Lived,’ and he’s called Harry Potter. But he was only a child – _is_ only a child. He and his peers are children who have been used to fight a war that they shouldn’t have had to fight.” Chiron looked very grim.

Percy bitterly sank back in his seat.

“We were kids, too.”

Chiron sighed. “Yes, but this war has thrown the balance of magic out of whack. The natural magic has been depleted for too long, and there are those who are actively tipping the balance to sabotage the magic for their own gain. It’s suspected that the dark forces from the war – Death Eaters – are still operating in the shadows. It is because of this that the Triple Goddess has called upon you as heroes to help restore the wizarding world and save magic.”

“You would only be obligated to attend the school of Hogwarts until you uncovered the source of oppression over magic, so the Death Eaters can be caught and restrained. If you choose to accept, of course.”

Percy eyed him sharply. “You say that as if we have a choice.”

Chiron pursed his lips. “Despite what you think, yes, you do.”

“But this is from a whole other pantheon,” Nico said. “A group of magical people who don’t even believe in the goddess who brought about their magic. Why do _we_ have to fix this?”

More silence.

Chiron looked down on them unapologetically.

Percy shifted uncomfortably, looking over at Annabeth. Chiron seriously expected them to just up and leave Camp for this quest. He wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Barely a month had passed since their own war, and they were getting by as they were. Percy didn’t believe Camp Half-Blood could afford to lose any support or cabin counselors, even for a short period of time.

“So, let me get this straight,” Percy said. “Basically – if I just ignore the little prologue you gave there – you want us to go to this magical school, on orders of a goddess that’s almost faded, stalk a kid, and watch out for people who like to try to rob the world of magic – magic, which they use themselves.”

Chiron looked pained. “No, I don’t believe they’re purposefully robbing the world of magic.”

“Oh, well that clears everything up.” Percy threw his hands in the air.

“Regardless, you understand what’s being asked. This is a quest, technically coming from Hecate, as a favour for the Triple Goddess. It’s valid as a hero’s quest. It was decided it would be best that you go undercover as transfer students and secretly watch over Harry Potter, the target for most Death Eaters. Your goal is to prevent trouble before it gets serious, though I doubt that will be hard, as trouble always manages to find you –”

“Wait, hold on,” Percy said, still hung-up on the quest. “How are we supposed to fit in at a school for the magically gifted? None of us are wizards.”

“Oh, that is something that can easily be fixed,” Chiron said, dismissing the problem.

“Excuse me?!” Thalia said.

“Hecate considered this quest from the Triple Goddess for a long time before coming to me.”

Percy rolled his eyes. Out of everyone in the room, he had the least faith in the gods. They never gave him anything to have faith in.

Annabeth narrowed her eyes at the camp director. “And how exactly does Hecate plan on ‘fixing’ the problem? I don’t see any obvious solutions. We’re demigods, not wizards.”

Chiron shifted awkwardly. “She has not shared that with me. I have only gotten the request that you undertake this quest for the Old Religion, and that she will visit to prepare you.”

Percy felt like grinding his teeth. “Oh, so she just expected us to accept the quest. She never considered us refusing? Why can’t the wizards fix their own problem?” Chiron said nothing. “Camp is still in shambles – we don’t even have all the cabins rebuilt yet! We can’t leave, not now. There’s still too much work to do here, and too many new demigods to watch over and protect. And have you even considered that maybe we don’t want to go on this quest? That maybe we want a break? My entire childhood was prophecy after prophecy, quest after quest, serving the gods. We’re under no obligation to do this. You can tell Hecate that she can stick her magic wands up –”

He didn’t get the chance to finish because Annabeth had already taken a ping pong paddle and smashed a ping pong ball in his direction, the mutual action used to keep order in camp counselor meetings.

“BALL!” Annabeth yelled, slamming her paddle across the table.

Percy scowled and took his seat again.

“Now, Percy,” she said sweetly, leaning over the table. “Where did you say Hecate could put those wands?”

“Nowhere,” he muttered.

Annabeth acquiesced and put the paddle down.

“Where is this school anyway?” Nico asked. He frowned. “And Hogwarts? What kind of name is that?”

“It resides in Scotland, its exact location unknown and hidden by powerful magic. Outside of the school, which is an ancient and famous monument for the wizarding world, there are other magical establishments. One place you will be required to visit is Diagon Alley, a wizarding market. That’s where you’ll collect your resources for going undercover at school.”

“Again, you’re saying all this like we’ve agreed to go,” Percy mumbled.

He was ignored. Thalia raised her hand, her features etched with confusion. “Okay, I hate to be the one to say it – but how are we supposed to blend in with wizards and witches? We can’t use magic, and we know nothing about their world.”

Chiron admitted he didn’t know how Hecate would find ways around the problems. “She has informed me that, only once the quest is accepted, will she come and discuss the details. In fact, she should be arriving any moment –”

What happened next could not have been anymore dramatic.

There was a blinding flash of light – the glow filling the entire room – and it forced the demigods to cover their eyes lest they go blind from laying eyes upon a god’s true form.

All eyes landed on the goddess, technically titaness.

Hecate appeared as a tall, thin woman. Her dark brown hair was tied up in a kekryphalos, the shining coil twisting and adorned with intricate gems and metals. Loose strands of hair framed her sickly pale face, which held sharp chartreuse yellow eyes. She wore a dark chiton robe that draped over her thin figure, and it seemed to ripple like a heat hallucination, like ink spilling off to the ground.

At her feet, she was accompanied by a black Labrador retriever and a polecat.

The demigods all stood as one and politely bowed, as was common for all gods. Percy glared up through his bow as he followed reluctantly.

“Rise, my young heroes.” The goddess’ voice was smooth and rich. She sounded monotone. “You have done more than enough to prove your worth to me, and for that, I know that I can trust you. I have called you four here on special request from the Triple Goddess, who has observed your acts of heroics. She believes you can save the wizarding world, her beloved kin, and magics.”

“You will use the ways of the Old Religion to learn magics and go undercover. As demigods, you already have magical cores. They just need to be trained; refined.”

Percy scowled.

“And will the oh-so-gracious Triple Goddess be visiting us herself?”

Annabeth shot him a scathing look.

“Percy!” She hissed.

Hecate eyed Percy again, as if reappraising him. “No,” she said, after a tense silence. “You will be sent to get your wands from one who still practices the Old Religion and can pair you with an appropriate wand. Your cover stories are fabricated and with the wandmaker. The Triple Goddess does not appear without dire need.”

“Her entire world being in trouble seems pretty dire to me,” Percy muttered under his breath.

Annabeth elbowed him harshly.

Hecate narrowed her eyes.

“This,” she said, pulling a laminated piece of paper out of thin air, “is called a portkey. It is an enchanted item; when touched by the intended people, or random persons, it can magically teleport you to a predetermined location.”

She held it out to demigods.

On it, in fancy letters, it read: _Littletree Farms, Dorchester, Boston, Massachusetts_.

“Touch this, all at once, and you will have accepted the quest.”

Chiron gave them an encouraging nod. The demigods all shared exchanged looks.

“Our responsibilities …” Thalia started, subconsciously reaching up to grab at her lieutenant circlet, from the Hunters of Artemis.

“Will be forgiven for the time while on quest,” Hecate assured. “The Triple Goddess does not ask favours lightly. This has the potential to spill into the real world; to affect our pantheon. The Old Religion is younger than the Greek pantheon, but its reach goes far and wide. The Triple Goddess is powerful; no harm will befall your precious little Camp while you are away.”

Nico hesitated, but was the first to reach for the paper. “If this is really that important … why ask for us specifically? A larger group, organized and planned, could do better.”

“The Triple Goddess has observed you, and believes you are the right heroes to help save magic.”

“But right now? This instant? Can’t we have time?”

“You will come back to your little Camp before you leave for Europe.”

Annabeth pursed her lips, then also reached for it. “Okay.”

Percy looked at her, askance. “Okay? Just like that?”

Annabeth shrugged. “A quest is a quest, and someone needs help. We are in peace right now and have no threats. I don’t see why not.”

“Fine,” Percy said, tone short. He looked over at the laminated paper. “So, this will take us where? What’s in Boston that could be so magical?”

“A wand wood farm,” Hecate said, smiling thinly. “And your quest starts now.”

Percy’s eyes snapped to the paper, where Hecate had pushed it into their collective hands unwillingly. Then the world began to spin, and there was a sharp tug in his gut, yanking him out of time and space.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I took the Old Religion from the BBC Merlin fandom, but I'm not tagging the fandom because those characters are never involved, nor are any Merlin plots involved. I just recently got back into the fandom and liked the idea of tying it all together.
> 
> lmao I also have plans for Percy x Draco, and for Percabeth to turn platonic. I also want to write as much representation as is relevant to the plot as possible, just as a big "fuck you" to JK Rowling, so any suggestions are welcome if you want to see something specific! 
> 
> My personal headcanons right now: asexual / grey-asexual / pansexual Percy, aromantic Thalia, gay Nico, bisexual Annabeth, non-binary lesbian Ginny, lesbian Luna


End file.
